


Exieman Comics: Admiral Bass' Change

by DemonDean10



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Betrayals, But then Comfort, Comic inspired, Fluff, Hero Stuart, Hurt, Is it modern, M/M, Megamind inspired, Misunderstandings, Temporary Character Death, Unrequited Love, Villain George, Villain Paul, ambiguous era, death rays, injuries, is it the 60s, its a mix, no comfort, reporter John, that don't work, we dont know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-07-24 19:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20019568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDean10/pseuds/DemonDean10
Summary: Liverpool City is the home to many superpowered people.Exieman, the city's superhero. Secret Identity: Stuart Sutcliffe.Admiral Bass, the city's supervillain. Secret Identity: Paul McCartney.Vishion, his long suffering sidekick.  Secret Identity: George Harrison.And John Lennon, a reporter, is tired of being in the middle of it all.





	1. Liverpool City

**Author's Note:**

> this is sorta based of superhero cartoons so yes, some aspects are ridiculous. Bear with it, its on purpose.

John Lennon was working. He sat in his bedroom at his desk, typing speedily at his typewriter. He was working on an article about the Vietnam War, a new look at the American conflict and the first that would be (hopefully) printed at the newspaper in which he worked, Daily Mersey. He had worked at the paper for four years and while he loved his work, he didn’t like  _ everything _ that came along with it. 

Liverpool City had the problem of being home to a great population of superpowered people, bigger than even London’s. The city’s greatest tormentor was the dramatic and vicious Admiral Bass, who controlled sound waves. His identity was a mystery, considering that while he had gotten his arse kicked many times, he had never actually been jailed. His sidekick was called Vishion and could manipulate nature. And those two were the bane of John’s existence. 

Why? Because, for reasons unknown to him, John was the Admiral’s favourite target. Since he’d become a reporter John had been kidnapped countless of times by the duo, his life threatened over and over again. It had gotten tiring by now. He didn’t even report these things! He wrote about politics! And worse was every other criminal had started to follow the supervillain’s example, John became their favourite hostage too. He even got along with some of them. He’d bumped into Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones Gang the other day and sat down with him to have a coffee!

Of course, the Admiral’s plans were always beaten by the city’s hero: Exieman. How the name had come about nobody knew exactly, but the man had been protecting Liverpool (and rescuing John) for years. He was a typical superhero, with the ability of flight, super strength, superspeed, x-ray vision, and a mild telepathy that should really cause more concern than it did. He had gotten the key to the city two years ago, though no one actually knew his name. Not even John. He was just Exieman to everyone. 

He’d rescued John from falling to his death from the Liver Building over a month ago, after another failed attempt by Admiral Bass to exterminate the superhero with a gigantic ray. John was  _ always _ his bait because everyone knew that Exieman would  _ always _ come to the reporter’s aid. 

Exieman and John had developed a friendship of sorts. The superhero was so busy flying John away from danger and fighting the Admiral that their conversations were usually short, but they were nice. John screamed for help (Each time less enthusiastically than the last), Exieman removed him from the scene with a reassuring quote, John thanked him once he was safe, and Exieman left with a quirky if not flirty sentence to go and beat Admiral Bass. The pair always made front page news. 

The noise of glass breaking distracted John. He snapped his head away from his papers and looked around. Nothing more was heard. Maybe it was Walrus, his cat. John took off his glasses, stood up and called out, “Walrus? What have you done now, you little shit?” John loved his cat, really, but come on…

He went into the hallway and snapped his fingers a few times, “Walrus? You okay?” 

No answer. 

John was about to sigh when he felt something cold and smooth run up his leg. He jumped but it was fruitless, the vine had wrapped itself around his calf and brought him down with a thud. John gasped in pain. In no time the vines were wrapping themselves all over his body, leaving him immobilized. The reporter groaned, “Are you kidding? Again?”

A thin figure appeared out of the shadows, his long dark hair framing his masked face. Vishion dressed in a dark green bodysuit and a long black cape with a collar that extended upwards and met with his cheekbones. His dark green mask matched his suit, angled so that part of his cheeks were covered too. His hands were free and were currently directing his vines where to move. “We gave you a month of recovery, that should be enough.”

The reporter glared up at him, “I have an article to finish.” He complained. 

The villain shrugged, “Not my problem. The Admiral has a plan and he needs ya.” 

John sighed, “Can’t he get someone else?” It might sound selfish, but he didn’t care at this point. His kidnapping quota for the year was up as far as he was concerned and it was only June.

Vishion glared. “No.” He said, “Now good night.”

And a flower sprayed its gas right into John’s face. In no time, everything went dark.

* * *

John woke up in a way he was, to his great annoyance, very well used to. He was lying down on something uncomfortable and his whole body from his shoulders to his knees was held still by vines. There was a sack over his head leaving in complete darkness. He grimaced at the smell and coughed. Then sighed. Then said “Fuck.” Of course, none of it was audible. Admiral Bass could turn down or amplify any sound he wanted and he always muted John whenever he didn’t want to hear him. If there was one thing John hated more than anything in the world was for his voice to be taken from him. He felt weak and powerless. 

The sack was ripped off his head and he blinked in the new light. There was no sun, because this was Liverpool. John looked around himself and a shudder went through him. He was tied to railroad tracks, a new one for the Admiral. 

Speaking off, Admiral Bass waved at him from above. “Nice of you to join the land of the living, Johnny.”

John rolled his eyes. 

Admiral Bass, like his sidekick, also wore a (tight) bodysuit only his was a marine blue. His copper gloves reached his elbows and he wore a flowing cloak of the same colour with a hood that covered half of his face. Underneath that cloak was a marine blue mask that covered his identity. John always hated to admit it, but the man looked good.

“Now,” The Admiral clapped his hands and the rumbling sound resembled a cannon. “I’m sure you wish to learn my brilliant plan.”

‘Not really.’ John inaudibly said. Admiral Bass’ plans were always the same. ‘ _ I’ve built a brilliant weapon that will surely not Fail in destroying Exieman once and for all! I am so brilliant! Muahahahahahahaa…..’ _ Everytime. 

“A train will be passing by very soon, Johnny. Right over where you lie. Exieman won’t want you to be meet this sad sad fate, and so he’ll come for you. Only to meet his end.” The man chuckled. “Behold!” Bass exclaimed as he turned away from John, “The Supersonic Quantum Ray!”

Vishion brought a large machine in front of John, the mouth of the ray bearing down on him. He rolled his eyes extra hard. Another ray??? Had all the past failures not gotten through to him?

Apparently not. “With this ray I will finally kill Exieman and Liverpool will be mine!” Then the Admiral waved his hand in John’s direction. 

John knew he had his voice back and he sighed loudly. “Don’t you ever get tired of this damn routine?”

Bass knelt over him, “ _ Never _ . I will not rest until Liverpool is mine and Exieman is  _ dead _ .” He patted John in the face, “Come on now, scream for your hero.”

John glared but did as he was told. The sooner this was over with the sooner he could go home. “Exieman!” He shouted a few times, “Help!

“Ask him to save you.” The Admiral ordered with a smug grin. 

“Save me! Please!” His tone was loud but quite dead.

The ground trembled as a figure in white landed near the tracks. It was Exieman, standing tall and strong. He wore no cape and his face was uncovered; he cut a very handsome figure. Exieman crossed his arms, “Admiral, you’re back!” His voice was menacing and cold. 

“Didn’t think I’d stay hidden for long, did you?” His enemy contested. 

Exieman did not answer him, but turned to John. “Are you okay?”

John scoffed. “Just kick his arse.” He said.

And Exieman did. It was your typical superhero v. supervillain fight, with yells and loud hits and rolling in the dirt and supersonic booms that made John’s ears hurt. Vishion jumped in to help Bass, and Exieman threw him away like a ragdoll. But even with those sounds, John could hear the sound of a train nearing and could feel the tracks shaking. He started pulling at the vines, but they proved unbreakable. This time with some urgency, he called out, “Eh, Exieman!” Shit, he could see the train now. “EXIEMAN!”

The hero turned from where he had Admiral Bass pliant on the floor ready to be knocked unconscious and his eyes widened at the appearance of the train. He let go to Bass’ cloak and flew to John’s side. “Stay still.” He ordered and focused his eyes on the vines. 

“Vishion,  _ now _ !” The Admiral yelled and his man pressed the big red button to activate the death ray.

It bore down on Exieman who himself had rays coming out of his eyes to cut the vines. The hero didn’t seem to notice it, much to Admiral Bass’ annoyance. 

John bit his lip as he felt the heat of the rays hit his clothing and burn his skin. 

The last vine snapped just in time for Exieman to grab John and fly him just out of reach of the train, the reporter’s face landing on the dirt. The weight of the superhero got off him as he went to chase the villain. 

John curled up in the dirt, hand on his burnt side. It was minutes until Exieman came back. 

John looked up at him, “Gone again?”

Exieman offered him a hand, “Not for long.” He said with a reassuring smile.

John couldn’t find the will to return it as he took the hand. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault.”  _ Again. _

The hero shook his head immediately, “Of course it isn’t.” There was a silence. Then, “Do you...do perhaps want an ice cream?”

John blinked. Exieman had never offered to stay with John before. Sometimes he waited for the authorities but he’d flown him home or to the hospital before. “What about the police? Won’t you wait for them?”

Exieman groaned, the most human sound John had ever heard him make. “I’d rather spend time with you. Besides, after this whole ordeal I feel like you deserve something nice.”

Yes he fucking did. John smiled widely, “Alright then.”

Exieman opened his arms and John hopped on them. The hero flew them away into the sky. 

* * *

“Bruised and battered yet again.” Vishion complained as he shrugged off his cape and threw his mask in the general direction of a metal table. 

The Admiral and his sidekick had safely arrived at their Evil Lair (Muahahahahahahahaha) and now it was time to rest. They had failed in killing Exieman, again. 

Admiral Bass was removing his gloves and cloak too, his mask removed upon entrance. “We almost had him.”

George Harrison glared at his boss, “Did we?” He asked in a sardonic tone.

Paul McCartney turned to him, “Our next ray will be even stronger. I will see it done!” He winced as he raised his arms high, that bastard hero had twisted it rather badly. 

Seeing this, George sighed and went to his side. “Come on, let’s fix you up.” Paul always said that, but it never happened. 

“I just need to learn his weakness.” Paul lamented. The man could not possibly be invincible. They were both superpowered and Paul certainly wasn’t....

George got his medical supplies, “How are you going to figure that out?”

Paul narrowed his eyes at the table next to the cot where he’d seated himself, “What is that?”

George looked away from where he was putting rubbing alcohol on a wad of cotton. “Uh, newspapers with articles about us and Exieman.” He groaned as the Admiral stood, “No, stop! Sit down, I need to clean that scratch on your face.”

Paul waved him away and reached the table. There. Right there on the front page was a flying Exieman in all his glory with a certain reporter in his arms. Bingo. Paul picked up the paper and showed it to George, “That’s it!”

George was quiet. “...we just kidnapped him.”

“No! I won’t kidnap him as bait again.” Paul explained. “He is Exieman’s boyfriend or something, his most trusted source. Surely if anyone knows anything about a weakness, it’s Johnny!”

George scoffed, “That reporter will never talk to you.”

Paul waved the paper, “Correction, that reporter will never talk to  _ Admiral Bass _ , but a certain Paul McCartney…” The man shrugged, “Who knows?”

His sidekick smirked, “Ooohh…”

They were going to get Exieman.

* * *

The next day an aching John was at work, typing away at his computer in his large cubicle. It was decorated with odd drawings and famous dark poems along with a couple pictures here and there. He’d had to go to the emergency room last night after getting home to get his burns treated and the bill had been steep. He really needed a better insurance, but reporters didn’t get much. Not even the constantly kidnapped ones. 

His coworker and friend Cynthis Powell arrived to his side, “Hey John, feeling better?”

John offered her a goofy smile, “Right as rain, luv. What did you need?”

“Could you come by my cubicle later? I’m writing the article about yesterday’s Admiral Bass encounter.” Cynthia sounded proud and why shouldn’t she be? It wasn’t her fault that John would rather not talk about being a hostage  _ all the time _ . 

John bit back a sigh, “‘Course, Cyn. Be right there.”

“Thank you! By the way, boss wants to see you.” She giggled as she left. 

John did sigh this time but stood up anyways. 

Brian Epstein was his supervisor and overall a big name in the news industry. He also had a very obvious crush on John for years now. And John couldn’t deny that back then he’d looked at him once or twice, but the interest wasn’t there anymore. Brian was John’s boss and he didn’t want the name of being the guy who slept with the boss to get to the top. He already had to deal with being ‘Exieman’s boyfriend.’ And that was annoying enough. 

He knocked on the glass doors of Brian’s office and then opened it. “Hello?”

Epstein looked up from some draft. “John!” He exclaimed and went to stand up. “Thank goodness you’re alright.”

John chuckled, “Just a regular Sunday.”

Brian stood in front of him, “Were you hurt at all?”

My abdomen is covered in bandages. “Nothing to worry about.” John said with a shrug. And indeed, the small burns would be gone within the week. 

Brian raised a hand and caressed John’s hair, “If anything had happened to you…”

Well shit, that was forward. This had stopped happening after the first twenty times John had gotten kidnapped. He smiled awkwardly and took a step back, “I’m fine, Eppy. Promise.” His smile was more true now, “Exieman always saves me.”

At this Brian’s eyes darkened and he too stepped back. He cleared his throat, “Right.” That  _ hero _ got to save John all the time, got his gratitude and his charm. And Brian? Nothing. 

John didn’t notice this change in attitude, “Did you need something else?”

His boss walked back to his desk, “No, no. Just wanted to see if you were alright.”

John grinned, “Alright then. I’ll get back to work, bye.” He waved as he left. 

Brian was left staring after him, an irritation at Liverpool’s precious Exieman brewing in his chest. 

* * *

John was taking his lunch break on the roof of the Daily Mersey building, surrounded by pigeons. His lunch was nothing special, just a few slices of sushi and a Dr. Pepper. He was thinking about getting a new bed for Walrus when two warm hands came over his eyes and he tensed. 

“Oh no!” Said a playful voice, “You’ve been blinded.”

John relaxed immediately. “Exieman! What are you doing here?”

The hero removed his hands and, much to John’s astonishment, sat down on the cement next to him. “I just saw my favourite reporter in distress after saving a cat from a tree and had to stop to say hello.”

John faltered at the name, ‘Reporter in distress.’ He forced out a chuckle, “Yeah, I guess I’m in danger a lot, huh?”

Exieman smirked at him, “I don’t mind. Rescuing you is my favourite part of the day.”

Being kidnapped and dragged and hurt was definitely not on John’s list of good things but he didn’t want to say so. Exieman might get offended and then what? 

Exieman cleared hi throat, “Now,” He started, “I was thinking dinner. Tonight.”

John choked on his sushi, “With, with me?”

The hero nodded, “I will pick you up.”

Where was all this coming from? John stammered, “Oh. Well, I-”

Exieman suddenly turned his face away and narrowed his eyes towards the city, “Robbers at the city bank.” His powerful ears had picked up sounds of the attack. “Fantastic. See you then!” And he flew off. 

John was left gaping. He didn’t even know the time! And how would Exieman know where he lived? 

The reported sighed and ate another slice of sushi, at least his night would be interesting. 

* * *

He’d dressed up nicely, John had, in case Exieman took him to a fancy restaurant. The blue jeans fit snugly enough that his legs were attractive but not indecent, the white shirt was bright and finely pressed, his black shoes were polished, and he’d chosen his lucky red and black blazer. His hair which normally fell limp on his forehead had been neatly styled into a 50’s style ducktail. Like the ones Teddy Boys used to wear. 

John observed himself in the mirror and took a deep breath. “What do you think, Walrus?” He asked his cat. 

Walrus turned away rather rudely. 

But before John decided to take his cat’s actions seriously and change his whole outfit (Again), a knock was heard on the glass balcony door. John smoothed out the non existing creases on his blazer and went to open it; he wasn’t surprised to see Exieman there. 

The superhero was dressed in his typical suit, but he’d shrugged on a long white coat over it and his hair was more slicked back than usual. 

John scratched his neck self consciously as Exieman looked him up and down. “Eh, hi.”

Exieman took out a slightly flattened bundle of flowers from his coat and held them out, “For you.” He too sounded nervous. 

John accepted them with a surprised smile. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d gotten flowers. “They’re lovely.” He waved the hero in as he went to put them in water. 

Exieman looked around the spacious flat. Due to his high position in the newspaper, he could afford a really nice apartment in the best part of the city. 

John came back from putting the flowers next to the bed to find Exieman looking at the picture of John and his old friend Ringo, who’s moved to LA a couple years ago. “That’s Richard.”

The look on the other man’s face was cool, “An old boyfriend?” He asked in a low voice. 

John burst out laughing, “Ringo? No! We grew up together, he’s like my brother.”

Exieman’s mood turned and he smiled softly at John, “Are you ready to go?” 

They walked towards the balcony and John steeled himself to fly. Ever since the first time Admiral Bass had thrown him off a building John had hated heights and flying, however brief. 

Exieman turned to face him, “Before we go, I must tell you something. Something I’ve never told anyone.”

If this turned out to be something about his superhuman ass having three dicks or something like that, John was gonna freak. He gulped, “Yeah.”

“My name is Stuart.”

Oh. John blinked, “Oh.” 

“You can, you can call me Stu?” The hero said with a shy smile. 

His date then smiled and nodded, “Stu it is.” Strong arms wrapped around his waist, held him close and tight, and they were off. 

John shut his eyes tightly and clutched at Stu’s body, wrapping his legs around his body. He expected to be taken to the restaurant zone downtown, but when he opened his eyes after they landed he wanted to close them again. 

They were on top of the West Tower, the tallest fucking building in Liverpool. John gasped as he looked down and saw the entire city. He rapidly walked backwards and bumped into Exieman’s chest. 

“Is everything alright, John?” Stu asked him with concern. 

John willed himself to breathe normally and he forced a smile, “Ye-eah, I’m okay. Just first date nerves.”

“You’re telling me.” With a brave hand on John’s lower back, Stu led him to a nicely set up table thankfully not near the edges. 

“I got us sushi, I, eh, I didn’t know if you liked anything else.” Stu told him with a sheepish grin. 

John shook his head, “I love it. Thank you.”

The sushi was really good but the talk, in John’s opinion, was a little one sided. 

“How long have you been a reporter?” Exieman asked. 

“Since I was around 18, so six years now.” John said. He’d started at the Daily Mersey as an intern when he’d started university. 

“You’re twenty four then?” Stu asked. 

“Just turned last October.” John answered. 

“Do you like your job?” Stuart questioned. 

“Very much.” When I’m not getting kidnapped. 

“What do your parents think about it?” The hero said. 

“They love it! They’re very proud.” John lied. 

“They live nearby?”

“Eh, no. They live in America.” John lied again.

And that’s how it went. Questions and answers until all the food was gone. 

“Do you want to go down?” Stuart asked him, “There’s a market downtown.”

There was nothing John would like more that to get back down to solid Earth. “That’d be nice.”

John braced himself for the flight and he resisted the urge to scream as Exieman swooped downwards. 

The moment they touched the ground there were people around them. 

“Exieman! Exieman, did you save your blogger again?”

Blogger!?

“Exieman! Smile for the camera please!”

Don’t actually do it, idiot!

“Hey you! Do you get yourself kidnapped to sleep with Exieman?”

As if. 

“Exieman! I’m better than that guy!”

“Exieman, will you take a picture with me!?”

“Slut!”

“You’re my hero!”

“What a fucking slag.”

“Who dresses like that? Fat arse.”

“I love you, Exieman!”

“Imagine being that self-absorbed. It’s his fault Bass always goes free!”

“You suck, snow white!”

John couldn’t take the insults anymore. There were people all around him, shoving him and screaming in his face. And the worst thing was that Stuart was too busy being acclaimed by fans that he didn’t notice the abuse John was undergoing. 

The young man slipped away from the crowd, holding himself tightly and trying to ignore the jeers. He ended up between two fruit stands, shivering in fear. He might be used to being kidnapped by criminals and supervillains, but angry civilians? They had looked much scarier. 

John was distracted from his torment by the soft sound of music coming from nearby. A soft voice accompanied the expert strumming of a guitar and a curious John followed it. 

He came upon a man around his age. He was sitting on an upturned wood box and had a guitar in hand. His voice was gentle and soft as he sang about a blackbird. 

_ Blackbird singing in the dead of night _

_ Take these broken wings and learn to fly _

_ All your life  _

_ You were only waiting for this moment to arrive _

As John’s shoes made a sound in the gravel, the young man stopped singing and his eyes flickered upwards to John. 

“Don’t stop on my account.” Said John, “Please keep going.”

A small smirk appeared on the man’s face and he continued, but this was a different song. 

_ I give him all my love _

_ That's all I do _

_ And if you saw my love _

_ You'd love him, too _

_ I love him _

John blushed at the words, especially with that coy gaze the man was giving him.

_ He gives my everything _

_ And tenderly _

_ The kiss my lover brings _

_ He brings to me _

_ And I love him _

The man stood from his box as he sang, walking closer to John. John did not move away, so enchanted he was by the loving words. 

_ A love like ours _

_ Could never die _

_ As long as I _

_ Have you near me _

_ Bright are the stars that shine _

_ Dark is the sky _

_ I know this love of mine _

_ Will never die _

_ And I love him _

The man’s serenading was stopped by a booming voice that made John jump. 

“Hey!” Said Exieman, “There you are, John! I thought you’d gotten yourself kidnapped again.”

John did a double take at both the accusation and the angry tone. “I was just enjoying some music.” He explained and turned to the stranger, “This is…?”

“Paul McCartney.” The man introduced himself with a tiny wave. “Hi.”

Stuart did not answer him. 

“He’s very good.” John complimented with a bright smile. Maybe Exieman would like to stay to hear?

“Ah, just hobby.” Paul laughed. 

“Well, good for you.” Exieman hissed and turned away, “John?”

A confused John didn’t go to his side, “I want to hear another one.”

Paul smiled and raised his guitar, “Sure, I’ll-”

But Exieman interrupted. He grabbed John’s arm in a strong grip, “We need to go.”

John tried to pull away, “No, I-”

But Stuart did not listen. He wrapped his arms around John and shot up into the air, leaving a frustrated Paul McCartney behind. 

The moment they were on solid ground again, at the top of some building, John ripped his body away from the superman and screamed, “What the fuck was that!? Why did you do that?”

“I was worried.” Stu tried to explain, “You could be hurt!” Couldn’t the reporter see that?

John scoffed, “By a guitarist?”

Stu knew he had to cave in. The last he needed was John to get angry. If he was angry, he could be distracted, and if he was distracted he could get kidnapped again. Best to appease him. “Look, I’m sorry.” He went to the man’s side and put his hands on his shoulders, holding him still when John tried to push him off. “I’ve never done this before and I, I am struggling. I’m not used to not fighting people, or saving them!” He sighed, “I thought I could do this.”

John sighed as well and he looked down, “You have to understand, I’m not just a kidnapping victim your have to rescue. I’m a person.” He looked up and put his hands over where the hero’s were on his shoulders, “I like you, Stu, and I want to be with you. But I need you to see me as John, not just your damsel.”

The bigger man pulled him into a hug, “Okay.”

John allowed himself to relax in the embrace, “Okay.”

* * *

Richard Starkey or as he liked to be called, Ringo Starr, thanked the cabbie after she’d dropped him off in front of a shabby looking apartment building. He’d just arrived back to Liverpool after living in LA for many years. He hadn’t told his old friend John yet, wanting it to be a surprise. 

He approached the building and pressed the button he was looking for. 

“Hello?” Came a groggy voice from the mike. 

“Hi! I’m Richard? You accepted my application to be your roomie?” Ringo smiled, then realized he could not be seen and cringed. 

“Oh! Oh, yeah. Come in!” A buzz was heard and Ringo opened the door. 

Ringo walked up to the fifth floor and to the final door. He knocked after putting his bags down.

A thin young man opened the door, looking relieved to see Ringo. “Hello! Come in, come in.”

“Thanks.” Ringo said as he dragged his things inside. Once inside, he turned to his companion and offered his hand, “Richard Starkey, call me Ringo.”

The young man shook it, “George Harrison, pleasure. Let me show you to your room.”

The flat wasn’t very big, it had a living room with a kitchenette and a small dinner table and three doors. One led to a bedroom, the second to another bedroom, and the third to a good sized bathroom. It was as Ringo expected and he could not complain. “There’s a lot of plants here.” Ringo commented as he observed all the flowers and weeds and small trees.

“Yeah, I dabble in gardening.” George was glad this Richard had arrived. With all of Paul’s plans failing, rent was becoming hard to pay. He was just going to have to be really careful about using his powers. 

Richard let out a satisfied hum. Yes, this would do good. He was just going to have to be really careful about using his powers. 

* * *

Just five days after John had told Exieman that he was more than a damsel in distress, he found himself tied to a chair in a warehouse. The Rolling Stones Gang had kidnapped him again to try and get ransom money. 

“He’s just going to drag all your asses back to jail, Mick.” John said. He being Exieman of course. He’d gone on a date with him again two days ago, this time to a nice lake. “Why are you doing this?”

Mick Jagger, who was shirtless due to the heat, shrugged and smirked at him. “What can I say? I like having you around, Johnny.”

Brian Jones smiled at John from his place in the ground, “I read your new article, fascinating stuff.”

John grinned, “Really? Thanks, Bri.” It had been about the space race and its political effects. 

“Shut it!” Came the shout from Keith, the one gang member who didn’t care for John. “Or I’ll gag ya.”

John laughed, “Oh, I bet you’d like that.”

Brian chuckled along, “He would.”

“I know I would.” Mick said as he threw wink in John’s direction. Their relationship was a flirty one, because Mick flirted with everyone and everything. John didn’t mind, he was used to it. But Keith, Mick’s lover,  _ did _ mind and he took it out on John. 

John pulled at the duct tape holding him down, “Come on, lads. Untie me. I never cause any trouble.”

After a few seconds of contemplation, Mick sighed, “Fine.” and cut off the tape with his switchblade. John immediately moved to Brian’s side on the floor and they started talking about the article. Soon, Exieman would arrive with the money, hit them all with it, and take them to jail. John would be able to go back home to rest after the ‘traumatic experience’ like all the previous times. 

A few minutes later Mick sat down next to him and dragged John into his lap, “Your boyfriend sure is taking his time.”

John blushed, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

But the gangster just rolled his eyes and squeezed John’s middle. “A little bird, called the tabloids, told me all about your dates.”

John tensed, “None of your business.” He was already getting teased about at work, this was the last thing he needed at the moment. 

Mick’s hand started wandering down, “Now, don’t get angry, Johnny. I gotta know if my favorite reporter is still free for me- ARGH!”

Exieman had grabbed him by the hair and thrown him away from John. Brian scrambled backwards but slipped. Exieman threw him away too. 

“Where’s the money!?” A nervous Keith shouted. 

“Here.” Exieman answered as he picked up Mick from the ground and threw him into his lover.

John dusted himself as Exieman beat them up, but started to get worried when he didn’t stop. Brian was screaming and grunting, while Keith covered Mick’s body with his own. Exieman’s hands were getting bloody. 

“That’s enough, Exieman.” John called out. “That’s enough!” He threw himself in front of a kick that was about to hit Brian in the head, “ _ Stop _ !” The kick struck his chest instead and he wheezed in pain. 

This gave Stuart paused and he frowned down at John, “He was touching you!”

Of course he was talking about Mick. John glared up at him, “Yeah, I know. It’s what we do.”

Exieman’s face darkened at this, but he said nothing yet. Instead, he grabbed John by the bicep and picked him up. 

John yelped as Stuart put him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Hey! Put me down!” He was perfectly capable of walking and having his bum up in the air was humiliating. 

“The police are outside.” Was the only answer before they were up in the air. 

They landed in a park and when Stu put John’s back down on the ground, he fell over with nausea. He’d been forced to see them take off and it had messed with his nerves. 

Stuart didn’t seem to care, “So you and Michael Jagger...you touch.”

John scoffed into the ground, “It’s harmless. He’s with Keith-”

Again, Stuart didn’t appear to hear him. “I didn’t expect this from you, John. I thought we meant something…”

Was John really hearing this? A fucking jelousy rant from a superhero? 

Exieman scowled at him, “How can you fraternise with criminals?”

John shrugged, “They’re harmless. You always beat them.”

Stu laughed, “I should have figured the broken moral compass would belong to a reporter.”

John glared, “Hey!”

“No wonder you keep getting in danger, if you keep hooking up with criminals!” Stuart was pacing angrily as he spoke. 

John gasped, “‘Hooking up’!? What are you talking-” The man was talking nonsense!

Exieman turned to him, “Are you working with Admiral Bass?” He demanded. 

The other man gaped, “ _ Excuse me _ ?”

The superhuman towered over him, “Are. You. Working. With. Admiral. Bass?”

John stood up and hit him in the chest, then winced in pain. “No!” He shouted, “How dare you ask me that?” 

Exieman was silent, but finally he let out a defeated sigh. “I expected better, John.” And he flew off into the sky.

John stared after him, shocked and wounded at the words. How could his hero act like that? How could he be so cruel?


	2. Dates and Fights

A few days later John was walking back to work after having gone down for a coffee at lunch break. No one had heard of Exieman in the past few days, least of all John. Luckily, there hadn’t been any attacks for him to stop or people to save. 

He was passing an alleyway when he heard a familiar voice. John stopped and turned his head to listen closely. 

_ Yesterday _

_ All my troubles seemed so far away _

_ Now, it looks as though they’re here to stay _

_ Oh, I believe in yesterday _

_ Suddenly _

_ I’m not half the man I used to be _

_ There’s a shadow hanging over me _

_ Oh, yesterday came suddenly _

John followed the voice and came upon Paul the guitarist at the other end of the alleyway, resting against the dirty wall with his guitar in a hand and a cup by the floor. He’d gotten a couple notes and coins already. His eyes flickered upwards when he heard John and he stopped strumming. 

“Well, look who it is.” He said in an amused tone. “This is a surprise.”

“I could say the same.” John answered. 

Paul shifted his eyes all around them, “Your boyfriend not around?” His tone was cautious.

John sighed in response. 

Paul kept going, “Wanna hear the song you missed the other day?”

John rested on the wall opposite the guitarist, “Please.”

Paul smiled and started strumming, never removing his eyes from John’s. 

_ Who knows how long I've loved you _

_ You know I love you still _

_ Will I wait a lonely lifetime _

_ If you want me to, I will _

_ For if I ever saw you _

_ I didn't catch your name _

_ But it never really mattered _

_ I will always feel the same _

_ Love you forever and forever _

_ Love you with all my heart _

_ Love you whenever we're together _

_ Love you when we're apart _

_ And when at last I find you _

_ Your song will fill the air _

_ Sing it loud so I can hear you _

_ Make it easy to be near you _

_ For the things you do endear you to me _

_ You know I will _

_ I will _

He stopped and looked at the man opposite him, “What do you think?”

John was speechless. “I...did you write that?”

Paul walked close to him, “Just last night actually. Had a certain journalist in mind.”

John laughed and looked down. “Thanks for saying journalist.” A more respected word than reporter and more accurate to what he did. 

A brave hand touched his chin and raised his head. “Come walk with me, John.” Paul murmured. He didn’t know why Exieman had gone underground but surely his reporter would know.

John knew he was already late to work, but he also knew that Eppy would forgive him. So he nodded, “Alright.” He didn’t question how the man knew his name, surely he had heard Exieman say it the other day or read it in the papers.

They walked in silence for a few minutes in the complete opposite direction of the Dailey Mersey. Both too nervous to start a conversation. 

Paul cleared his throat, “Must be nice to date a superhero.”

John scoffed, “Not so great when the only reason you got his attention is because you’re getting kidnapped 24/7. Hospital bills add up.” He’d just gotten another one last night. Needless to say, it had been HIGH.

Oh. Paul had never thought about it like that. He himself was familiar with high healthcare costs, which is why he’d had George take that first aid class. He had never considered the injuries he bestowed upon John or how he recovered from them. “...I guess.”

“Besides,” Continued John as they turned a corner, “If we ever had anything it’s over now.”

Paul stopped walking, “Oh?” Maybe his brilliant ray had worked and Exieman was dying!

John groaned quietly, “Yeah, we’re not”- He sighed- “I’m the damsel, he’s the hero. I can’t look after myself apparently, he  _ has _ to protect me. Always. It can be suffocating.” He shrugged, “We fought and he flew off. So, there’s that.”

By all means and purposes, John was useless to the Admiral now. He didn’t have access to Exieman any longer and of course the hero wouldn’t trust him after a fight. Paul ought to just walk away and look for other ways to defeat Exieman. But for some incredible reason, he wanted to keep talking to John. He may be useless as a source, but it had been a long time since he’d had any friends besides George. Of course, he planned to keep it at friends. He might have been flirting with the reporter and charming him, but that was only to get his attention and trust. Paul wasn’t interested in a relationship, not really. He tried telling himself that maybe Exieman’s anger was temporary and John would be close to him again in no time, but it wasn’t the primary reason for his want. Not truly. 

“I should be going back.” John said in a regretful tone, “I’ve still got work to do.” 

Paul nodded, “Oh, of course.” So there went his idea. Who knew when they would see each other again? He would be too busy trying to find Exieman’s weakness-

“When can I see you again?” John asked with a shy smile. Surely Paul would be interested? He’d written John a love song!

Paul hesitated but then said, “How about tomorrow night?” He could stop working on an attack for one night, if only to have some fun with this man.

The journalist grinned, “I’d like that.”

“You know that Indian place near the Cavern Club?” George  _ loved _ that place. Too much in Paul’s opinion but the food was good.

John gave a nod, “Sure.”

“Meet me there at seven.” Paul said to him. 

“It’s a date!” John said in a more giddy tone than intended. 

Paul looked at him, “I’ll try to be better than Exieman.”

John stared for a moment then leaned close to bestow a kiss upon Paul’s cheek, which turned warm afterwards for some completely unrelated reason. 

“You already are.” John said and walked away, back to work. 

Paul was left staring after him, feeling unreasonably excited for tomorrow night. 

* * *

That night, John was putting the final touches on his Vietnam War article, which he intended to deliver to Brian tomorrow morning, when the bell rang. Insistently. Over. And. Over. Again. 

“Okay, I’m going!” Ring. “I’m going!” Ring Ring. “Fucking stop, shit- Ringo!!” 

Richard Starkey stood on the other side, a wide smile on his face. “‘Ello, Johnny!”

John gasped and hurried to hug the shorter man close, “Rings! You’re here!”

Ringo clapped his back as they hugged, “Surprise.” He said. 

John stepped back, “How long are you back?”

Ringo shrugged, “I’m thinking long term, I got a place near the docks. Good enough I suppose.”

John couldn’t help but be relieved. At the rate he got kidnapped and villains broke into his home, Ringo would be likely to be hurt. John couldn’t stand that. “Come have a cuppa.” He instructed and led his friend to his kitchen.

Ringo whistled as he looked around, “This is a nice place.”

John smiled. He’d worked hard to get a flat in the nice part of town, and worked hard to keep paying rent. “Ta. This is Walrus, remember him?” He’d sent many pictures to LA.

Ringo knelt down to pet the fat, brown cat, “I see his name is still fitting.”

John shrugged. He’d taken Walrus to the vet many times, worried about his weight, but they had all said that it was natural. 

Ringo cleared his throat, “Um, so I’ve been reading the newspaper.”

John stilled.

His friend looked at him with worried eyes, “Are you okay, Johnny? They said this happens at least every month?” Ringo felt so stupid, how could he have not known until now?

John shrugged, “If I’m lucky.” He forced out a chuckle.

Ringo put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry, if I’d known…” He sighed.

John smiled kindly at him, “There’s nothing you or I can do about it. We’re normal, useless against super powered people.” 

But Ringo wasn’t normal. He never had been.

John shook his head, grinned, and clapped his hands. “Come on, let’s watch a film!”

Ringo followed him, swearing to keep a closer eye on his friend.

* * *

The next day, John was walking towards Epstein’s office, his final draft held tightly in his hands. Months of work had finally paid off. This article would speak to British citizens and inform them about the horrors of the Vietnam War and hopefully, inspire them to speak out against it. It meant everything to him. But would Brian like it?

He knocked on Brian’s door and pushed it open, “Hiya, Eppy.” He held up the folder, “Here’s my final draft.”

Brian smiled as he took it and put it in the publishing pile for Saturday, the day they sold the most papers. “Excellent, Johnny.” 

John stared. “You...you’re not gonna proofread it?” 

Brian shook his head with a grin, “No, I trust you.”

John let out a disbelieving laugh. “Thank you.” He turned and went to leave the office but his boss’ voice stopped him.

“Er, John?” The man sounded timid.

John turned his head, “Yeah?”

“I was wondering...if you would like to get something to eat tonight, after work.” Brian looked at him with hopeful eyes.

John’s stomach sunk. He had his date with Paul tonight, and he had no interest in a date with Brian. But he’d been so nice today, John wouldn’t like to hurt him. He offered an apologetic smile, “That’s a really nice offer, Eppy but...Walrus is sick and I’ve gotta take care of him.”

“Oh.” Brian nodded and looked down, “Of course, I understand.”

John shrugged, “Sorry.”

Brian waved him away, “No, no. It’s alright.” So much for courage.

* * *

John has dressed up differently than he had on his date with Exieman, not wishing to act like Paul was a mere replacement. The jeans were white this time and slightly less tight, but no less form fitting. He’d shrugged on a nice black t-shirt and covered it with a loose aubergine purple sweater and a white scarf. He hoped he looked good.

The journalist grabbed his keys and wallet then left his flat, hailing a cab outside the building. He wouldn’t risk walking, not when he had such an exciting thing to do. John wouldn’t like to get kidnapped any day, but this was extra important.

He paid the cabbie as he left the cab and took a deep breath as he stared at the restaurant. He couldn’t fuck this up.

Just as he was about to enter the restaurant, a voice came from behind him.

“You look nice.”

John smiled and turned to face Paul, who was wearing black slacks and a marine blue shirt. “As do you.”

Paul walked close to him and examined him. Finally, he said, “You should let your hair curl more often, it’s gorgeous.” He surprised John by reaching up to pull at one of them.

John giggled, flattered. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He nodded his head in the direction of the restaurant door, “Wanna go in?”

They headed inside and were seated in a booth by the window. They thanked the waiter as they got their menus and were quiet as they read over them.

John cleared his throat, “So, what do you do, Paul? Just the guitar?”

Paul let out a nervous chuckle, “Yeah I, eh, play at parties and the like.” 

John looked at him over the menu, “I think you’re good enough to be a recording artist, since you write your own stuff and all.”

Paul smiled at him, “You think so?”

The other man nodded, “Your songs are wonderful, how do you do it?”

“I’m just good with sounds.” That was certainly true enough.

John laughed and hailed the waiter.

As soon as he was gone, Paul turned to John. “What about you? You seem to like music.”

John sighed, “I used to...I wanted to be a rockstar like Buddy Holly or Elvis, but my auntie wouldn’t have it. So I became a journalist.” He looked up at Paul, “And I love it, I do! But music will always be the one that got away, I suppose.” He shrugged with a sideways smile.

There was a comfortable silence.

“I’ve been reading your articles.” Said Paul, “Brilliant stuff.” The Admiral had never seen John as anything more than a tool; a pretty piece of bait to get Exieman’s attention. He had been so ignorant.

John grinned, “And a better one is coming, it’s about the Vietnam War.”

Paul hummed, “Huh, I barely know anything about it.”

“Exactly!” John exclaimed, “England is ignorant and I want to change that.” He shook his head, “I’ve worked for months and months trying to find information...it’s not easy.” He’d written letters upon letters to American contacts, trying to find out details and news. 

Paul was about to speak when a tense voice came from beside them.

“Well hello, John.” Said Brian Epstein, “Fancy seeing you here.”

John’s eyes widened as he looked up, “Bri-Brian!”

The older man smirked at him, “How’s Walrus?”

John winced at the hurt in the other man’s eyes and swallowed. “I-”

Brian interrupted him, “No, don’t speak.” He threw a dirty look at Paul’s direction, “I understand now. Enjoy your meal.” And he walked away. 

John buried his face in his hands and groaned. Of course Brian would find him out on a date, that was just his luck. 

But little did either he know, Brian wasn’t the only one watching him. Perched on the roof of a nearby building, the window booth in his eyesight, was Exieman. He growled as he saw the guitarist reach out to take one of John’s hands in comfort.

The reporter had betrayed him and Exieman owed him nothing.

* * *

George was watering his plants as Ringo watched the news on the telly. George hardly ever left his flat, knowing that if he let go of his powers for just one second he would be screwed. He had always struggled to contain his abilities, which is why his family had abandoned him. He was trouble, they had said, and he believed them. He often wondered if his family made the connection between the child they had left starving and one of the most wanted men in England.

“Hey, look at this!” Ringo pointed at the screen. 

George turned and winced. It was footage from all their fights against Exieman, mostly images of himself and Paul getting their asses kicked. “Yeah, that’s pretty common.”

Ringo shook his head. In L.A. the super powered population was minimal, what with so many restricting laws. If anybody did have a power, they hid it well. Just like Ringo had done. He nodded at the screen, “This Admiral’s gotta be crazy, right?”

George gripped his water can tight, “I guess.”

“And this Vision guy-”

“Vishion.” Interrupted George without thinking.

Ringo turned away from the telly, “What?”

George looked at him, “His name is Vishion. Like Vishnu, the Hindu deity.”

Ringo’s eyes narrowed and shifted around the room, landing on the statue of the very same deity George kept near the door.

The younger man was quick to say, “He taints the name.” He spat out, “Vishnu is a protector, not a villain.” 

Ringo nodded, accepting this. 

But he didn’t understand. George  _ was _ a protector, he fought to get rid of Exieman. He was too powerful and too loved...everything he and Paul weren’t. And the Admiral may be happy with being called an evil villain, but George wasn’t.

George noticed that Ringo was talking. “Sorry, what?”

The shorter man gestured at the picture of Exieman on the screen, “I was just saying how it must be nice to get your powers amplified from the sun.”

George nearly dropped his water can, “ _ What _ ?”

Ringo kept talking at the screen, apparently not having noticed George’s shocked tone. “Yeah, you know how superpowered people have a special gene?”

George knew this very well. “Yes.”

Ringo turned to him and chuckled disbelievingly, “Exieman’s abilities caused by that gene are amplified by the sun’s radiation.” Of course, Earth didn’t get all the radiation particles of the sun because the magnetosphere deflected them. Else they would all be dead or dying or worse. “It’s only a tad bit of radiation though, there’s only so much a human can take, even a superpowered one.”

George sat down beside him, “How do you know this?”

Ringo froze, “Well I...I read it somewhere? In a scientific journal back in America.” This was not true, but Ringo couldn’t say that he knew it because his photokinesis allowed him to observe the effects of any electromagnetic waves around him.

George grinned. They had him! Exieman was done for!

Ringo turned back to the television, where a documentary about birds had started to play. George was an odd man, but he supposed being surrounded by plants did that to a person.

* * *

John fell like a prisoner walking to his execution. He’d barely slept the night before despite Paul’s attempts at comfort before they parted ways, filled with anxiety of what awaited him at work. 

The date had ended well, with the agreement that they would see each other in a few days. John had insisted on paying and Paul had in turn waited for a cab to arrive to pick John up. But despite the happy night, John couldn’t relax at the thought of Brian.

Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary at work, but John knew he had to go see Brian. And so he found himself walking towards his boss’ doors, body tense and with teeth gnawing at his lower lip. 

John stopped as he reached the door and sighed. He had to do this. 

Brian didn’t look up as he walked in, but he did say, “Why are you here?” His tone was cold.

John fidgeted with his hands behind his back. “I...I wanted to apologize for lying to you yesterday.”

There was no answer.

John took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” He said.

At this, Brian did look up, eyes calculating. “You could have just said you didn’t have any interest in me.”

John looked down, “I know.” He sighed. But he hadn’t wanted to hurt Brian…

Brian cleared his throat, “You have been taking advantage of me and my feelings.”

The journalist’s head snapped up, “No, I never-”

“But good thing you’re here,” Brian interrupted as he sneered at John, “I can give this back.”

John struggled to catch the folder that was thrown at him and kneeled down to pick up some fallen papers. He frowned, this was his article! “Wha..?”

Brian’s tone was cruel, “It’s terrible, we can’t publish that.”

John stood up, hugging his work close to his chest, “But you said-”

“Get out of my office, Lennon. And take your rubbish with you.” Brian waved him away and turned back to his work.

John looked down at his article, so many months of work...for nothing. He sniffed and slowly left the room, hoping that Brian would call him back.

But he never did.

* * *

Paul was in his evil lair, laying on the ground uselessly and thinking about John. Their date had been...amazing. Apart from that odd man’s interruption, that is. John  _ was _ interesting! And funny. And was interested in hearing about  _ Paul _ ! It was odd. Very odd. And suspicious. But before his mind could begin to mess with him, George entered the room.

“Paul! I’ve got the most brilliant news!” He stood next to Paul and grinned down at him. Some vines were growing in his hair, betraying his excitement.

Paul looked up at him, “Oh?”

“I know how to destroy Exieman.”

The Admiral jumped up and stood close to George, “What!?”

George explained what Ringo had told him.

Paul shook his head, “That is no weakness, it’s a strength!”

But then George explained his idea to him and Paul’s frown turned upside down.

The super villain laughed madly, “This is wonderful, Vishion.” 

His sidekick smirked, “Now we just have to kidnap that reporter again and Exieman will fall right into our trap.”

Paul faltered. “Er, about that…”

George looked at him, “You said he wasn’t a useful source, right? But still good bait.” Destroying Exieman was worth one silly reporter, surely?

The other man turned away. The truth was, he didn’t want John to get hurt. He now knew that the man had to endure condescension as a journalist because Admiral Bass and Exieman reduced him to a damsel in distress all the time, not to mention the hospital bills John had to pay.

George frowned at his back, “What’s wrong?”

“I just think that we could find another way of baiting Exieman, without hurting John.” Paul shrugged.

“‘John?’ Since when are you in first name basis?” George went to stand in front of Paul, “You didn’t get attached, did you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Cried Paul, “Of course I didn’t.”

But George tilted his head and asked, “Where were you last night?” They were supposed to meet up but Paul had sent him a message saying that he was going to be otherwise occupied.

Paul gave a guilty wince, “Busy?”

The younger man laughed, “You didn’t actually go on a  _ date _ with him?”

“And what if I did, George?” Paul demanded, growing irritated by the second. 

George just scoffed. There were thorns growing in his skin out of anger.

Paul sighed, “John is tired of being a victim. We, we could take somebody else or maybe broadcast something-“

“You’re being ridiculous.” George said, “We don’t need anybody else, the reporter works each time-”

“Journalist, he’s a journalist.” Paul interrupted without thinking.

“I don’t care!” George hissed, “We finally get the chance to get rid of Exieman and you’re hesitating because of a man you barely know.” 

“I don’t want to hurt him anymore.” Paul snarled.

“I think it’s a little late to feel guilty.” George threw back. “You think he’s going to care about your repentance when he finds out you’re the villain that’s been throwing him off buildings all these years?” 

Paul didn’t have an answer.

The other man shook his head at him and turned away. “Call me when you’re ready to do what’s necessary.” He called back to Paul.

The Admiral was left alone, filled with trepidation and anger.

What would John think of him?

* * *

A few days later, John was sitting outside the public library waiting for Paul. It was a cold day and he’d shrugged on a yellow coat with a matching beret to keep warm as he waited. It would be their second date and a reprieve from the hell work had become. 

Brian had been merciless, if not outright cruel. For one, his desk had been moved from where it was next to a window to a tight corner right below the faulty vent that only gave out cold air. Brian had also shortened his lunch break to fifteen minutes and had screamed at John in front of all his coworkers when he’d been three minutes late. His article hadn’t been printed and he had yet to be assigned something to write about, so he was stuck editing other people’s work -articles about little league football and school choirs. 

Paul appeared before him, a little out of breath. “Sorry I’m late, I got lost.” He made a funny face as he hunched over.

John giggled at him and shrugged, “S’alright.” 

Paul dug into his black coat’s huge pocket, “I, eh, I got something for you.” And he offered it to John.

It was wrapped haphazardly and John took it with a curious glance he unwrapped it and held it up to his glasses. 

Oh.

It was a mug that said:  _ The Bestest Journalist Ever _

Paul frowned as he saw John sniff and flinched as he heard him sob. “Oh no, what’s wrong?” He sat down next to him, “You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to!”

John reached up to wipe his tears away with the sleeve of the jumper he was wearing beneath his coat and looked down, embarrassed. “No, it’s just…” He looked at Paul with fond eyes, “Thank you.” He had been treated like shit at work, his skills trashed, and it was great to feel like someone appreciated him. He hugged the mug close, “Thank you so much.” 

Paul looked him over with worried eyes, “Is everything okay?”

If John started talking about all the ways everything was  _ not _ okay, he’d never stop crying. So he just nodded and gave a small smile, “Yeah.” He reached out to grasp Paul’s hand, which had been resting on his knee. “Wanna go get that coffee now?”

Paul squeezed his hand affectionately, “Come on.”

And watching them from above was Exieman, shaking with rage. All those times he had saved John because the man was too vulnerable and for what? The reporter would rather be with some guitarist incapable of protecting him. It was infuriating. 

Stuart flew away. If John didn’t want his protection, he wouldn’t get it.

  
  


John and Paul were walking around holding hands with coffees in the other. John was telling Paul about Walrus, making the other man giggle with stories of the lazy but mischievous feline.

They stopped talking just as they passed by a window showcasing dozens of televisions, all showing the news. They had a picture of Admiral Bass and John sneered at it, “Ugh.” He turned away in disgust.

Paul hadn’t noticed the image yet. He frowned, “What’s wrong?”

“I just wish they wouldn’t give monsters like him so much attention.” He hissed.

Paul finally saw the television and flinched. “S’a bit harsh, no? Calling him a monster?”

John scoffed at the ground.

Paul forced himself to sound nonchalant, “I mean, he must have reasons for doing what he does.”

His companion laughed, “You can’t mean that.”

“Why not? It’s not like Exieman is Mr.Perfect, either.” He pointed at John, “You said it yourself!”

John’s eyes narrowed, “Exieman may be emotionally inept, but at least he never threw me off a building or tried to drown me or tied me to a railroad or hung me from the hands of Liver Building clock or buried me alive or-”

Paul snapped, “Well, maybe if you weren’t such an easy target he wouldn’t keep taking you!” He chuckled, “I mean, it’s almost like you want to get kidnapped-!” 

John slapped him, chest heaving and eyes wounded.

Paul came back to himself. Shit, what had he done? He could have given himself away!

The journalist opened his mouth but after a few moments, closed it again. He turned away from Paul and hurried away, hugging himself.

Paul groaned. Why did people have to be so sensitive? He hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true! He shook his head and turned to walk in the opposite direction from John, squashing down a feeling that could be called guilt.

* * *

George was cooking dinner when their flat’s doorbell rang, so it was up to Ringo to open the door. 

“Hello?” He asked the figure out on the hallway.

He found a tall man, with a pointed nose and arched eyebrows. He frowned at Ringo, “Who are you? Where’s George?”

The other man offered a small smile, “I’m Richard, George’s new flatmate.”

“Ringo? Who’s that at the…?” George appeared over his flatmate’s shoulder and narrowed his eyes when he spotted Paul. He patted Ringo in the back, “Can we have a moment?”

Ringo looked between them warily but nodded, “Sure. I’ll watch the pasta.”

Once he was gone, George leaned into the doorframe with arms crossed. “What do you want?”

Paul sighed but looked straight into sidekick’s eyes as he said, “You were right.”

A few seconds passed, then a smirk appeared on Vishion’s face.

It was time to plan.

* * *

John groaned as he got into the cab and tiredly murmured his address to the driver. He closed his eyes and laid back. Work had been terrible today, with Epstein tearing into him about his ‘shit editing’ in front of the whole office. In his anger, his boss had waved his hand across John’s desk and sent the coffee cup Paul had gifted him to the ground where it shattered. Despite his anger and hurt towards the other man, John had kept the cup, but now it was gone. Apart from all of this, he’d also received some taunts from a few of his coworkers about John ‘needing to get on his knees again’ to get in Brian’s good graces. He’d locked himself in the loo for half and hour after that.

John was snapped out of his thoughts by the realization that the cab was not moving. He opened his eyes and gasped when he was met with Vishion staring at him from the driver’s seat. He didn’t understand, cabs had always been a safe space! Too late did he notice the vins around his legs and chest, trapping him. 

The journalist shook his head and whined quietly. “Please,” He begged, “Not today.” He just wanted to get home and cry for an hour as he cuddled Walrus. 

Vishion tilted his head, but his mouth twisted into a thin smirk. “Sorry, boss’ orders.” And he sprayed John, letting him fall into unconsciousness.


	3. A Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thb poor john guys

A defeated John was tied against a copper statue of some important man, wide arms held tightly by twisting vines along with his waist and neck. He could barely move, not that he had the energy to.

Vishion had raised a forest around the clearing that held the statue, holding off everyone but someone who could fly.

Exieman.

A weapon was pointed straight at John, some sort of emitter that stared menancely at the journalist, but John was too tired to be afraid.

Admiral had silenced him yet again and stood before him now. There was no evil laugh, no extravagant arms, only a vicious glint in his masked eyes. 

“Today,” He intoned, “Is the day Exieman  _ dies _ . Your hero will be no more.” He waved a hand at John, giving him back his voice. “Are you ready?”

John scoffed at him, “He will just beat you again, he always will.”

The Admiral growled, using his powers to amplify the sound and make it sound almost inhuman. “Not today. Scream for help,  _ damsel _ .” He hissed.

But John was angry now. “No.” He threw back. 

Bass stilled, “What?”

“I said  _ no _ .” John said, glaring at the man who’d tortured him for years. “I won’t let you hurt him.” There was something serious and scary about Admiral Bass today, but he wouldn’t get what he wanted.

The Admiral went over to his machine and pulled a long lever, resulting in a loud noise. He smirked at John, “You’ve got eight minutes to get him here, or you will die.”

“Then I die.” John was bluffing. He knew the Admiral wouldn’t let John get seriously hurt. He’d even dug him out of the hole he’d buried John alive in one time because Exieman was taking too long fighting a Tree Monster Vishion had created. Admiral may want Exieman dead, but he wasn’t a murderer. John trusted this.

Bass hissed at him, “Fine,  _ die. _ ” And he marched off. Of course John would be fine, Exieman would save him and (hopefully) die after. Paul trusted this.

They were both about to be proven wrong.

* * *

Brian Epstein was on his way home from work when he spotted a mass of people surrounding a...forest? In the middle of Liverpool? It had to be Vishion.

He got close and saw that there were helicopters flying overhead, cameras pointed down at the forest. He looked around to find the billboards and his heart stopped at what he saw. It was John, his reporter. The man he’d been torturing over the past few days out of anger. A great part of Brian was ashamed of his actions but then he remembered John’s lies and his fury rose again. But seeing the young man held tightly against a statue, with a cruel weapon pointed straight at his defeated body...it made his heart clench. 

John was through the forest; only Exieman could get in, but he hadn’t been seen in days,  _ weeks _ . If he didn’t show up, John was doomed. Unless…

Decision made, Brian took off his bag and let it fall to the ground, then he pushed past the crowd and ran straight into the forest.

* * *

Time passed and John did his best to count the minutes. Exieman hadn’t shown up yet and Bass hadn’t come back, so John waited silently; his anxiety was growing. Where were they? Either of them?

As the clock ticked, John thought about his stalker, Death. Who would miss him? Mimi was dead and he had no idea where his parents were, if they were even alive. He had no siblings that he knew of and not a lot of friends. Exieman has thrown him away and Paul had insulted him, though John had planned to give him a call to try and talk it out. Paul was a good person, he was just a little confused. Surely no one was kind as him could support Admiral Bass. There was Ringo, who had friends all over the globe and surely wouldn’t miss him much; and Walrus, who needed him so much. John lived for Walrus and Walrus lived because of him, he couldn’t die, he didn’t want to.

But it seemed that fate would not heed him yet again, as Bass’ emitter began to power up. John’s eyes widened and he did his best to look around. Nobody was there. The weapon was screeching viciously as its mouth opened to bear down upon John’s figure.

“Admiral! Admiral!” John cried out, his resistance drowned out by fear. He looked up at the skies, “Exieman, help!”

But Stuart would not be his saviour this day. Instead, out of the woodwork came limping the disheveled figure of...Brian? Brian Epstein?

His boss came running at him, jacket torn and one shoe missing. “John!” He shouted as he reached him, “I’m here.” And he began to rip at the vines.

John blinked down at him, “Eppy?” His tone was wondrous. “What are you doing here?”

Brian stood close to him as he slashed at the vine around John’s neck. He froze as he threw the plant to the ground and looked straight into John's eyes, “Saving you.” And he pressed a kiss to the journalist's lips.

Such was his shock that John barely registered Brian taking ahold of his upper arms and he only came back to his senses when he hit the ground. Pained, he blinked and his vision cleared just in time to see the emitter ray hit the statue, blowing it to pieces and taking Brian with it. 

John heard a sickening scream which he would later recognize as his own. Brian, his boss, his admirer...was  _ gone. _

Distinctively, he registered Exieman’s arms coming around him and lifting him up and away from the scene. He only came back to himself at the root of a tall building. John trembled and fell to the ground, face buried in hands.

Stuart sat behind him and put an arm around him. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t fast enough.”

John let out a shuddering breath, “It’s  _ my _ fault.” He shook his head, “I refused to call for you.” Because he’d been angry. Because he’d been stupid.

In truth, Exieman has known all along that John was in danger. How could he not? The was a forest in the middle of the city and he had excellent hearing, people’s voices had reached him. Yet his anger at John had held him back. Even when he’d heard him screaming for help, Stuart had not moved. And now a civilian was dead.

But John didn’t need to know that.

The journalist was hugging himself, whimpering. “He died because of me, because I am an  _ idiot _ who keeps on getting kidnapped.”

Well, Exieman could hardly argue with that. John was vulnerable and had refused to accept it. At least he was accepting it now. “I will make sure it doesn’t happen again.” 

John closed his eyes, “I can’t ask you to focus on just me.”

“Move in with me.”

John froze and his eyes widened. His face snapped to look at Stu. “What?” He whispered.

Exieman took a strong hold of his shoulders, “Come live with me in my fortress, free of rent! I can protect you there.”

John looked away. Perhaps this way the torture could end...but so would his freedom. “Can I think about it?” He asked meekly.

The hands in his shoulders tightened slightly before the loosened and moved off. “Of course. Let me take you home now.”

They flew off. John was deposited back in his balcony and he shivered in the cold night air. He turned to Exieman, “Thank y-.” 

And Exieman was kissing him passionately. Much like Brian had. He only stopped when he noticed John not responding. “Sorry.” He murmured as he stepped away.

John didn’t answer; only retreating into his flat to hide from the world. Brian was  _ dead _ now because of him. Everything was about to change.

* * *

And everything did.

Two days later when John finally dragged himself out of bed and into work, he’d found his desk emptied and a sad Cynthia had pointed him towards what should have been Brian’s office. There he found the owner of the newspaper and she had crushed his heart.

“It is because of you that Brian is dead, because of you that this paper has become a ridicule.” She’d thrown him a box full of his belongings. “I want you gone.” She’d leaned close, “You will never work in news again.”

John had hurried out of the building, mindful of both the pitying looks and of mocking laughter that followed him out. Once out, he’d fallen to his knees in an alleyway and heaved with an empty stomach. 

He was finished.

Ringo came to stay with him as much as he could, though John proved unresponsive to his comfort. He laid in bed for days, without the strength to cuddle even Walrus. He received letters, emails, and calls all full of threats and accusations. John didn’t pick up the phone at all anymore and Ringo checked his mails for him.

A funeral was held for Brian, and he received a letter from his family specifically forbidding him from attending. 

A few days later, he’d received an eviction notice. He wasn’t late on his payments, but he had ten days to leave his home anyway. Besides, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to afford it now that he was unemployed. 

So now John found himself with little choice, he had to move in with Exieman. At least until he had means to support himself again.

Which is why he was out on the balcony, dressed nicely to please Exieman, about to call for his aid yet again. “Exieman!” He called into the air, “Ex-“

The ringing of his bell interrupted him. John frowned; it couldn’t be Ringo because the older man had left a couple of hours ago, so who was it?

He went to the door and peered through the peephole, then gasped. It was Paul. Why was he here? John reluctantly opened the door a tad and asked him.

The guitarist looked gaunt and grey, his hair greasy and his eyes dead. He didn’t look at John in the eyes when he said, “I heard about what happened. Are, are you okay?”

John would have scoffed if he had the energy. “No.” He answered instead.

Paul nodded at the ground. He finally looked up, “Can I come in?” He knew that John wouldn’t even look at him if he knew the truth. Paul was Admiral Bass and he had killed a civilian. When he’d realized that Exieman wasn’t coming, he’d run through the forest in an effort to get to the emitter and turn it off or destroy it, but he’d been too late. This Brian person had been killed by him, yet Paul was still relieved that it hadn’t been John. George has been horrified too and Paul hadn’t seen him since.

John sighed but moved aside, showing the moving boxes all over the place. At Paul’s frown, he explained, “I’m moving in with Exieman, for my, uh, safety.” And everyone else’s.

The evil streak in Paul was curious about his nemesis’ fortress but he choked it down. Instead he looked at John, a much thinner and fragile looking John, and spoke, “I’m sorry.”

John’s head slowly moved in his direction, “What?”

Paul bit his lip, “The other night I...you were right.” He closed his eyes, “Admiral Bass  _ is _ a monster, a murderer.”

John didn’t even have the energy to smile, but he nodded. “Thank you.” It didn’t make sense for him to thank Paul for saying the truth, but since the words were kind and those kinds of words had become scant, John did so anyways.

Paul stepped closer and John worried for a second that he too was going to kiss him. John didn’t want to kiss anyone anymore, though surely Exieman would be expecting that once John moved in. 

But the guitarist surprised him by taking out a box from his coat jacket and offering it to John. “To apologize.” He said.

John took it with weak hands (He hadn’t eaten in two days) and opened the box. But for Paul’s quick hands, he would have dropped it. It was the cup! The cup Paul had gifted to him and Brian broken. The pieces had been glued back together and cleaned. John blinked up at Paul, “How…?”

Paul shrugged, “Dug then out of the trash.”

But how had he even know that it had been broken? John shook his head and decided to think about that later. Instead, he smiled; the first proper smile in days. “Thank you.” He repeated and the other man smiled back.

“Can I see you soon?” Paul asked as John showed him to the door. At John’s alarmed look, he raised his hands. “Not like  _ that, _ I know that Exieman...well, y’know. But I’d like to be friends?”

John nodded then. “Alright, let’s meet at the park next Friday, by the duck pond.” No one ever visited the duck pond, so John wouldn’t be harassed there. 

Paul nodded and lingered for just a few seconds before walking away.

John closed the door and leaned against it, looking down at his mug.

_ The Bestest Journalist Ever _

Who knew? Maybe one day he’d believe it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason this isnt tagged Major Character Death....something to think sbout....

**Author's Note:**

> kudos are lovely  
> comments are better!


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